Broken Secrets and Forgotten Memories
by MissUrbanWriter
Summary: We all have secrets. And we've all forgotten what the past was like. So have I. My name is Rose Kitabell. This is my story.
1. My Story

_The virus spread quickly. Across countries, oceans, plains and deserts. People were scared, didn't know who to trust. For those of us who were immune the Infected targeted us before all others. The immune community started shrinking and so—the world._

_This is my story. Me, Rose Kitabell._

My breathing was labored. My chest heaved. Beads of perspiration ran down my forehead though the night was cold. I couldn't see the moon or the stars as black covers covered the windows. But the black covers didn't stop me from hearing the frightening howls and moans from the Infected. Rose Kitabell wasn't often scared and this was one of the rare times.

I can't wait for the dawn. The sun peeking its head out from the horizon, lighting up the sky with soft blue and sometimes pinkish light. I pulled the blanket around myself tighter. My breath came out in long, labored puffs.

I had a name before. Before I invented Rose Kitabell. But I can't remember. I wish I did, though, as it would comfort me to know the name that my parents gave to me when I first appeared in the world. Sometimes I strain my brain to remember them, even the tiniest of detail but I can't. Their faces are just a blurred mix up in my mind. It has been too long, far too long.

I stroke a lock of hair. It is brilliant red. Whenever the sun glints on it, even the smallest ray, it seems to glow, glow until it threatens to burst into fire. I vaguely remember strangers back in the days calling me Fiery Red Head. I never did like it much. I don't know why. I just don't.

In the past few years, my once light skin had become tanned. Nicely tanned. I like it this way though it hurt sometimes. I wish I knew how light my skin had been. Had it been pale or deathly white? Is my lips, now thin, had once been full and pink? I sometimes tell myself that I would never know but a voice in my head tells me its not so.

I wish I remembered something, _something _about my past. Even if I once had freckles. Once had long eyelashes. Was I pretty? Maybe. I might never know. I have to get some sleep. My eyelids feel heavy. I check on the howls from the Infected. My mind tells me not to sleep but instinct tells me it's safe. I closed my eyes. I would wake in the morning.

&&&

The first thing I noted when I awoke was that the howls had stopped. I opened my eyes and cautiously sat up, rubbing my sore neck which had been bent at an odd angle while I slept. Was the Infected gone?

I slowly opened a corner of the black covers. It was light. I sighed in relief and took off the whole black cover and threw it in the back. Looking at the other black covers covering the windows, I decided to do them later. Stopping for a moment to pull off the black cover covering the window, I gunned the engine and tore off. The wind from the open window was refreshing on my face. I turned on the radio though I doubted there would be any news. It had become a habit I suppose.

"I'm Robert Neville…I can provide food, shelter and water…Meet me at noon on the docks, where the sun is the highest in the sky…Please, you are not alone…"

The signal clicked off at this point. I glanced at it. No signal was blinking on the screen. So there was someone out there, I thought, someone else beside me. I turned left with a screeching of tires and headed to the docks. Looking for a moment at the sun, I concluded that it was as high as it could be.

The docks, the docks…I was there! A man was there too. It was odd. I guess it was odd because for the past years I had seen no one. I had been changing cars of whom all radios had been torn out or destroyed.

I parked a few yards from the man (who had a dog) and cautiously got out of it. I had watched him for a few moments before I decided it was time to introduce myself. I felt my feet carrying me to him and after a moment's hesitation I put my hand on his shoulder.

He started so violently that his glass if water overturned and spilled its contents on the dog that started. The man turned and instantly pointed a gun at my face.

"Don't shoot!" I said, frightened, backing away and holding my hands up. "I'm not Infected!"

The man lowered the gun. "Sorry," he said. "I'm too used to them being around."

I put down my hands and nodded. "It's been that way for me, too," I said, realizing that I held my rifle.

"You survived only having a rifle as a weapon?" The man looked surprise.

"No," I said, whipping my cloak open and showing an array of knives and guns attached to my belt. "These. But I haven't been using them as I'm running out of ammunition and all of the stores I've seen looked dark. Too dark to go in. I can only scrape."

The man was silent for a moment then he said, "You heard my radio broadcast?"

"Yes."

"You're alone?"

"Yes."

The man nodded. "I guess that you don't have food," he stated.

"You guessed it."

The man nodded again. "So, to the introductions," he said, clapping his hands. "This is Sam. Her real name is Samantha. And I'm Robert Neville."

"Hi, Mr.Neville," I said, shaking his hand. "I'm Rose Kitabell."

"Hi, Miss Kitabell," said Robert. "And just call me Robert."

"Okay, then, Robert."

A beeping filled the air after a moment and Robert suddenly looked stricken. "You know how to drive?" he said quickly, abruptly changing the subject.

"Yes," I said, mildly surprised until I saw that the sun was setting.

"Then get into your car and follow me. Drive fast," Robert said, gathering up his stuff from the desk. I nodded and went back to my car, inserting the key and gunning the engine.

With Robert's car in front of me (driving fast) I had no trouble following him but my heart was beating like a race car on the track. I soon saw a grand house in front and Robert's car went to a full stop. I nearly crashed into him but stopped just in time. The sun was on the horizon now, sinking fast.

I hurriedly snatched up the rifle and followed Robert up the steps. Scattering vinegar over the steps, he opened the door and went in, Sam following and me last. He closed the door and slid a heavy bolt in place, barring us in.

"Close the windows. There are metal screens. It will keep the Infected out," Robert explained to me. I do upstairs and you do downstairs." He was already off before the last word was out and I did what I had been told.

As soon as the metal screens were shut, the sun already gone and howling from outside started, I sank into a couch with Robert next to me.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But we have to eat in the morning."

"It's okay," I panted (the screens were really heavy). "I…don't think…that…I have…the strength…to…" My head lolled back and my last conscious image was Robert bending over me, his arms reaching out.


	2. Hints

Snoring…Wait…Snoring? I opened my eyes—and immediately sunlight poked at it. Shielding the sun's powerful rays, I rubbed my eyes. Then I started. There was someone sleeping next to me! I was about to scream before I recognized him.

Robert's chest rose and fell gently, his face was peaceful. Peaceful in a way that I couldn't really explained. It looked as if he was several years younger. As I stared at him, he mumbled something and turned over, away from the sunlight.

Sunlight? Who had opened the metal screen? I figured it must have been Robert as he was fully clothed but had he been last night? I shook my head, trying to separate the jumble that was my mind.

I sighed. How old was he? Where was his family (if he had any)? Was he immune? How did he protect himself? A thousand more questions flooded my mind but I pushed them away. I could ask him later.

As quietly as I could, I got out of bed and tip-toed to the door. My hand closed on the smooth handle and I quickly turned it and exited. As light and quick as a shadow.

I explored for a moment before I found the bathroom. It was small and tiled with a bathtub squeezed in a corner and a sink at the other.

I closed the door behind me and stripped of my clothes. Looking with disgust at the dirt that caked my body, I turned on the heater and water poured out. It was a while before the tub was full and I busied myself with washing my face and brushing my teeth (with a spare toothbrush that I had found lying nonchalantly on the side of the tub).

When it seemed full, I tested the water then stepped in, soaking myself. I sighed in contentment. I could stay here as long as I liked…It had been so long since I had taken a bath…

I grabbed soap from a holder next to me and began to scrub myself. The dirt poured off in torrents. The water grew steadily murkier and darker as I rubbed my hair. When I was finished, I pulled the plug and let the water go, flinching at the dark spots of dirt that was still there after the water drained. I turned the water back on and rinsed the tub until it was clean.

"That's better," I murmured and wrapped a towel around myself. Ignoring my dripping hair (I don't usually dry it), I opened the door—and found myself face to face with Robert! I nearly dropped the towel covering me but gathered myself just in time.

"Hey, Rose—Oh I'm so sorry!" Robert cried, realizing that I was naked except for he towel covering my private parts.

"It's okay," I assured him, a little embarrassed myself. "But I was wondering if you have any my sized clothes as my own are—well—dirty."

"Uh, this way," said Robert nervously, turning and leading the way to a room that was beside the one that I slept in.

He opened the closet and, shading his eyes, threw it on the bed. The clothes were a long jeans and a tank top.

"These are my wife's," Robert explained, throwing a bra and daring-looking lingerie on the bed, beside the jeans and tank top.

I lowered my head, wondering where his family was but I decided against mentioning it. Robert looked a little sad and anguished.

He excused himself and went quickly out of the room, leaving me to put on the clothes. I saw a tear drop onto his cheek but averted my eyes, pretending I hadn't seen.

&&&

When I walked down to the kitchen five minutes later Robert looked up from his spaghetti and was surprised.

"Merlin, you're a fast dresser," he complimented then indicated a dish filled with food across the table from him. "I got you breakfast."

"Thanks," I said, picking up a fork and digging in. For a few moments there was silence (exception of chewing and glasses thumping onto the table) then—

"Where's your family?" asked Robert, his eyes fixed on his plate.

I was silent until Robert said quickly, "I-I didn't mean to offend you or anything-!"

"No," I said quietly. "You're not offending me and anyway I need to talk about them." I couldn't tell you how I felt. Like…Torn between sadness and some kind of anguished feeling that had nothing to do with Robert.

Robert was quiet, still afraid that he had offended me.

I began. "Years ago, (I can only remember vaguely) my parents were some kind of—scientists. They were working on a project designed and invented by my father." I dropped my eyes. "I had a sister. She worked in the lab with my parents and one-one day th-there was an accident." I took a deep breath. I could already feel tears starting to come. I didn't know how I remembered. I guess that having a person in all these years to ask me really triggered my mind. "My sister, sh-she turned into one of _them _a-and I was there, I saw it all happen…" I collapsed into tears. It was very unusual for me to cry as I've never really cried before but this time I needed to.

Robert looked uncertain for a moment before he was up in his chair and embracing me, murmuring, "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I shouldn't have asked you…"

I just sat there, sobs expanding from me and my arms limp by my sides. The realization that my parents were responsible for the Infection was really starting to get to me—and it made me sob harder for what could have been. If my parents hadn't been working on that project …If my sister hadn't been Infected…If the world wasn't what it is now…

I tried to continue, talking through my tears. "A-and m-my father h-had to sh-shoot her w-with a gun b-but it was too late. I-I never saw my mother so-o sad. Sh-she didn't act till it was too late. I-I saw their loss of humanity instincts…" The words were pouring from me, making no sense at all (for me, at least).

Robert shushed me and began rocking me. It was a few hours before my sobs finally abated, leaving me there shaking with red eyes and still hiccupping.

"There…" Robert let me go, his eyebrows still drawn together. "I'm sorry I asked you about your family. I was just curious as why you're all alone. I'm really sorry."

I waved away his apology and said thickly, "It's really is okay. I guess I needed to talk about them and…I just didn't remember the story being so…sad, I guess."

Robert nodded understandingly. He changed the subject. "So when was your first time with a gun?" he asked, hoping it did not involve the matter of my parents.

"When I had to shoot my parents before they attacked me." I dropped my head.

"Oh…" I could tell that Robert was embarrassed.

There was a silence between us for awhile before I began clearing the dishes. Robert shot an uneasy look at me before helping.

"No, it's alright," I said, dumping dirty dishes in the sink. "I can do it." Robert gave me another worried look before walking out of the kitchen, the steps having a worried rhythm themselves.

I was silent while washing the dishes and putting them in their racks. My mind was buzzing with too much confusion to make any sound. How did I remember? Was another person enough to trigger my memory into giving up more than in three years since the start of the infection? Did the words that had poured from my lips just a few minutes ago was true? Did I really have a sister? Why couldn't I remember anything? How could I face Robert next time? I put the last dish in its rack and stuck my hands under the icy jet of water that was pouring out from the faucet. Watching the soapy suds, rolling off my hands, I murmured, my words sounding like a firework in the room, "Oh, God, what are you going to do now?"

I shook my head, feeling the familiar urge to cry again. _It's no use to cry like a baby, Rose, _I said to myself sternly, _It won't help._

Unconsciously, I splashed some water onto my face, washing away the tear streaks. I at least had to be presentable when going out of the kitchen. I did not want Robert to think I am weaker than since I cried.

I turned off the faucet and reached for a towel. My hand scrabbled for a few moments before it closed on something smooth and cold.

I grasped it and opened my eyes, ignoring the sting of water flowing in. It was a gun. A real rifle. Not just any rifle. But one that was new and well polished, one that could shoot without having to pull the trigger extra hard as mine had.

I pulled out my own rifle and held it close to the other one. "Different," I said, puzzled. "Newer but where on earth could you get a new one?"

"Built it," said a voice behind me.

I jumped, accidentally dropping my rifle and aiming the new one at the stranger. "Robert!" I cried, putting a hand over the place where I knew where my heart was and lowering the gun. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," he said, holding up his hands then lowered it when his eyes found the rifle in my hand.

"Oh…Is this yours?" I asked, holding it out to him. "I found it on the counter."

"Yeah, that's mine." He took it and examined it. Then he lifted his head and instead looked at my old and beaten up rifle. "But I don't really need it. You can have it."

He pushed it into my hands and said, "I have others."

I said quickly, "No, no, I really can't have it! I-I mean you must use it…" But my fingers closed over it.

"No biggy," Robert said. "Now do you want to stay shut up in this house all day or do you want to do some shopping and look for ammunition?"

I thought. "Definitely going out," I said, smiling. "Plus, I need some new clothes."


	3. Sunset

Robert dropped me off at a building called R.S Clothes. After I thanked him and he drove off I was left to face the building. I felt my hand grip my new rifle tightly and after a few hesitant heartbeats I went in.

I had been shopping before but never had my heart beat so fast. I was convinced that an Infected would grab me from behind and tear me to shreds. I pointed my rifle ahead of myself and began to look for suitable clothes. I hated low cuts and mini skirts so I skirted their corner and began searching around for long sleeves and jeans. Beads of perspiration rolled down my forehead and the silence pressed on to my ears.

"Calm down, Rose Kitabell,"I murmured to myself sternly, searching for size S. "You're twenty years old, calm down." My words acted like a stimulant in the silence and, with renewed courage, I began picking out a few clothes here and there and gradually I began to lose some of my fear.

It was an hour before I had enough clothes and after I decided that it was time to go looking for some lingerie. To be honest, I was a bit embarrassed to go inside Annie's Lingerie Corner. I mean, whoever heard someone go looking for lingerie in a deserted building with obvious signs that the Infected had been here? No one. I'd be ready to bet on that choice. I wonder how Robert got HIS underwear.

I chuckled, imagining Robert wandering around, picking up soiled underwear here and there. My chuckles subsided quickly however and more seriously I began painstakingly searching for a bra and panties my size.

The deserted store interior was very creepy to my eyes and half of me wanted to rush out of it but I needed lingerie. And when I say need then I really, really need it. I browsed awhile before I found a bra that looked comfortable and also my size. I tried it on (nervously but there was no one around to see me) and when it fitted I slung it on my arm and, job done, turned to the panties. I hated the lacy ones; it made me itch and I would think that Robert would despise me if I tried scratching my private part (not like I would anyway).

The silky panties were of my taste and I grabbed a few before automatically turning to the deserted register. I sighed a bit, closing my eyes to block out the images that suddenly flooded my mind.

After a few moments I opened my eyes and swept out of the store. I breathed with relief when I was out on the sidewalk and out of the creepy place. I resolved to never go there again.

Robert soon pulled up in his car. "Hop in," he said; ignoring his watch's insistent beeping. "Sunset's here."

When I got in, I craned my neck and indeed there was the sun, hovering on the horizon, threatening to go down fully before me and Robert reached home. I shivered slightly at the prospect of staying in a car with the Infected close.

"Got your guns?" asked Robert, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes," I said, feeling my hand close again over my rifle (a little protectively, I thought). I think my knuckles would soon become permanently white.

"Well, you'd better stuff your clothes into your pockets," warned Robert, taking a hair spin swerve around a corner. "You're going to need the guns."

"Why?" The sun was not yet down.

"Because we might not reach home before the Infected come out," said Robert. The worry in his voice was starting to get to me.

"But the sun is not down yet and—"

Robert took another hair spin swerve and said, "My house is ten miles away," he said deeply. "That's about three hours away…Cover the windows except the windshield with the black covers in the back seat. Get the vinegar too."

I obeyed, still confused. I did the three windows and when I had to do his window, I had to lean a bit. I was embarrassed as my chest scraped his arms. When I went back over to my seat, Robert and I were both blushing furiously.

There were a few moments of silence before I remembered the vinegar and uncorked a bottle of it, spraying its contents over me and Robert and the car.

The sun's head was just peeking over the horizon the next time I looked and I felt my heart suddenly speed up. It might have gone three beets a second.

"The suns almost gone," I said, my tone a little constricted because my throat didn't seem to be working properly. "We might have to stop."

"I'm going to make the most of it," said Robert, making another swerve (the tires screeched with protest and I had to hold on to the dashboard to avoid flying into my window).

I unhooked my gun from over my shoulder and shakily inserted some clips into it. My breath had gone all shallow and fast. I had never been this scared before, how come I am now?

After the gun was loaded I put it on the dashboard for temporary. I took out my other rifle (the old and beaten up one) and loaded it also. The newly acquired rifle was last.

I put the rifles on the dashboard, watched all the while by Robert who had his eyebrows raised.

"And when did you know how to load it?" he asked, his eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing altogether into his hair. "I was about to teach you."

I shrugged. "It's no biggy, really," I said, struggling to keep my face neutral while my insides battled in fear. "My dad taught me. He was a great fan of guns and weapons."

"And he actually taught his own daughter?"

"Yes." It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. "Why is it so surprising?"

Robert's face clearly told me the answer and after a while he returned to his driving, making swerve after swerve. I guess he was going along a shortcut. You never know with Robert Neville. Somehow I had learned a lot of him in just a few days. Robert was sweet, funny and kind. He was also charming in the way that I can never understand. He always seemed to be patient and he always stopped when I had an accident. He was embarrassed in all the right times and always made me laugh.

"What?"

The simple word shook me to my senses and I realized that I had been staring at him. I quickly blushed a deep red, muttered, "Nothing," and pretended to stare out of the window, completely flustered that Robert had caught me staring. He was really sharp really… I lapsed into thought.

"The sun's gone." Robert's next words startled me and I quickly grabbed my rifle.

"Oh no…" The howls and moans of the Infected were already starting and I began sweating like crazy though a deep chill had come along with night.

"Hurry, cover the windshield!" Robert lurched to the back and came up again with a large black cover. While he pasted it on the windshield (accidentally knocking my guns to the floor) I got the bottle of vinegar and began spraying it around crazily, suddenly alert.

When we were done, Robert and I settled into our seats and held our breath. It was going to be a long night.


	4. Settle Down

The night seemed to take forever

The night seemed to take forever. It dragged on and on until I thought it would never end. But I had no fear. My gun was on the dashboard, within reach of anything went wrong. Like if one of the curtains fell or the radio suddenly turned on or…._Stop scaring yourself, _I told myself mentally, _you're with Robert. _But my heart wouldn't stop it's suddenly fast pace and the result was: labored breathing. I hated when I breathed like that. In a few minutes my lungs would feel sore and my head spin. And in this kind of cases you need to keep your wits about you.

"You alright?" Robert whispered to me. His eyes raked over me and for some reason I felt a strange, cold tingling running down my spine.

"Yeah," I whispered back. "Just nervous I guess."

"What is there to be nervous about?" He pushed a stray lock of hair from my eyes.

"Are you hittin' on me?"

"What? No!"

"Shh, keep your voice down." I pressed my index finger to his lips. There were a few moments of intense silence before I relaxed and removed my finger. "Coast is clear," I said. "Next time keep your voice down. The people all the way in Hawaii could have heard you."

"There aren't any people in Hawaii," Robert said, leaning back into his chair. "Only the Infected."

"I forgot."

We both lapsed into silence, each thinking different thoughts. Then I said, "Are we going to survive?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"No." I leaned toward him. "I meant us. The human race." But I knew the answer before he said it.

Robert turned his face toward me. "Why do you ask?" I couldn't tell his expression.

"I just wanted to know," I said, taken aback. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Robert was silent for a moment before saying, "I don't think we'd survive."

"I've heard about some surviving camps."

"They don't exist."

"And how do you know?" I inquired.

He didn't answer and I didn't ask again. The night passed and soon the sun was peeking over the horizon but Robert didn't gun the engine until the sun was bright enough to scare all the Infected back to their hiding places. When the Robert deemed the sun bright enough we took off our black coverage, threw them into the back seat and drove away. I rowed down the window and let the wind seep through my damp red hair.

Closing my eyes I let my thoughts whirl in my head. I imagined me, my parents and my sister standing in front of an average sized house with blue shutters. We were all smiling. My father with his arm around my mother, both of them looked serenely happy. My sister, however, was looking serious but a twinkle in her eyes betrayed her emotions. And I with little fat cheeks and a walk of a toddler.

"We're here," said a distant voice. The happy family along with the house dissolved as I opened my eyes and instead faced a house which had obvious marks of decay and grayness. There were no happy family standing in front of it just Robert and soon to be me. I stepped out and shut the car door behind me, trying to erase the picture of my family but it bore into me. Like a drill until it was so deeply imbedded in my soul that I could just conjure up the picture as if it was just taken yesterday.

Robert, not noticing anything, pulled out a key. The lock clicked and after sliding a heavy bolt away, he opened the door. Sam immediately bounded out to meet us with her tail wagging like crazy. She was obviously overjoyed to meet us.

"Okay. Sam, in the car." Sam obeyed and Robert beckoned to me. "Stay in the house," he told me, ignorant of my sullenness. "Sam and I are going hunting. We'll be back in a couple of hours, right before sundown. If we don't come back then you'll know what happened to us. We'd be—"

"I don't want to know."

"—either dead or camping out in the car."

"What if Sam howls?"

"She won't. Three years of training taught her good."

I checked the sky. "Going to be full moon though. I thought dogs always howl at the full moon."

"How can you tell? Oh, never mind. Sam never howls," he assured me. "Anyway, got to go. Time is wasting."

I nodded and watched as he got back into the car and with a final wave he backed up and sped off. I closed the door and after an after thought locked the door.

"Just in case," I said, ready for a shower and a nap.

_A/P:I know nothing much happens in this chapter but let's dive deeper into what happened to Rose and Robert. Quite a bit of action might happen too._


	5. Legs and Doors

Months passed and I felt myself growing closer and closer to Robert

Months passed and I felt myself growing closer and closer to Robert. I noticed things about him that I hadn't seen (or felt) before. I realized that he was smart, funny and kind and that his mind didn't just revolve around his lab or the Infected. As our bond became much stronger than I could ever imagined we both started dropping hints on our past. He found out (through my constantly chattering mouth) that my parents had been working with several other people called the "Secrets". I learned from him that his family was dead (he wouldn't tell anymore). We also became inseparable. I never went anywhere without Robert. _He _never went anywhere without me. Unless, of course, he went out in the night and denied my offer to accompany him.

Now here I am, sunk deep into my thoughts and with absolutely nothing to do. My usual hobby was to play minesweeper on the computer when I'm bored but Robert told me to go easy on the electricity. Why? Because since there is no one left to manufacture the electricity, electricity has become very, very scarce.

So my other favorite hobby is to browse on why the world is going down the drain or why my parents even _became _scientists. Now I know the answer to question #2 but as to question #1 I have no idea. Well, maybe a bit.

_Screech! _What was that? I thought rather stupidly, having just been rudely jolted out of my thoughts. Of course! Who else? There was a sudden banging on the door followed by a "Let me in!"

"Robert!" I nearly tripped over my own two feet in my haste to reach the door. Sliding the bolt, back I unlocked the door and swung it open. There stood a wild-eyed Robert who was soaking wet. I glanced over his shoulder and was surprised to see a very expensive-looking Mercedes instead of the usual jeep.

"Get in!" I'd decided to hold back my millions of questions until after Robert got into some dry clothes and calmed down enough.

Robert, of course, came in (or shall I say limped in, he seemed to have twisted his leg). I didn't see Samantha so I assumed that she must have bounded in while I was examining Robert.

"Wait!" Robert shoved me away from the still-open door and fumbled in his pocked for a moment. He then withdrew a bottle of vinegar and spilled out its contents on the front steps to conceal his scent. He banged the door shut and leaned against it, his face twisted in pain though he obviously tried not to show it.

"I'm fine, Rose," he said when I stretched out my arms to help him.

"Come on, Robert," I said, hurrying forward when he nearly fell. "You seriously don't look fine at all."

"I am fine," Robert insisted, trying to walk but miserably failing. "See? I can walk."

I pursed my lips and, before he could protest, I had swung his arm around my shoulder and proceeded to the couch that I'd been sitting on. He tried to struggle but after a few attempts he gave up and let me push him down on the couch.

"Your leg." Obediently, he stretched it out and laid back, his eyes closed. Sweat and perspiration mixed with what I suspiciously thought as lake water beaded his forehead. I turned back to his leg and began looking for any damage. Yep, he had twisted it but not too badly that I might have to go for a trip to the hospital. Just bad enough that it won't heal for several months.

"You're lucky," I told Robert. "Your leg doesn't appear _that _bad."

Robert hmmed in response.

"I used to take medical school in London before I dropped out," I continued. "I think I know how to stop a bit of the pain and help it heal. I'll go get the Aid Kit. Don't you move," I added over my shoulder.

I spent a few minutes rummaging through the cupboards until I found the Kit. It was behind a box of already expired cereal. I grabbed it and rushed to the living room to find Robert in the same spot, his leg propped up on the Oriental coffee table.

"Good," I said to him. After I had cleaned and bandaged his leg, I helped him limp to the bathroom. He undressed (I had my back turned) and after his privates were completely surrounded by bubbles (he had added some bubble solution to the bath) I rested his leg on a chair and helped the still weak Robert wash himself. While I was shampooing his hair he suddenly spoke.

"You know, you're just like my wife," he said, turning his face to look at me.

I paused before setting my soapy hands down. "She usually does the same routine every time you twist your leg?"

Robert laughed; a rasp that quickly turned into a cough.

"Oh…" I pressed my hand to his temple. "Looks like you've caught a cold, too." He took my hand and smiled, his eyes looking odd.

"My wife used to do that," he said, letting go of my hand but not turning away. "She was always so worried…even when I got one little scratch. She would put medicine and bandages on such a tiny cut but that was before…"

I felt my heart speed up. Robert had never delved into such a detail about his wife ever before. "Robert, are you okay?" I asked worriedly. I worried that Robert must have lost his mind.

He ignored my question and continued: "Before everything turned horrible." His eyes had attained a wild look. "I took my wife and daughter to the evacuation point. Soldiers were examining the eyes—you know the Infected has red eyes, unlike ours—and I saw an Infected mother with her child. "Take my daughter", she had cried. I could've saved her child but I couldn't. What if her child was Infected, too? I tried to push them out of my mind but it wasn't long. I put my little girl and my wife into that plane. It was rising then a-an accident happened. A very horrible one. I-I could have stopped it. But I couldn't…I couldn't…" He started to sob. The sound of a man who had been defeated. I wrapped my arms around him, not minding my shirt getting wet and soapy. So his family had died in the plane crash. I felt my heart expand with sympathy Robert has suffered so much…

The silence stretched on until it was destroyed by a banging on the front door. My heart stopped.


	6. Bit

The silence stretched on until it was destroyed by a banging on the front door

_The silence stretched on until it was destroyed by a banging on the front door. My heart stopped._

"Rose…"

The sound of my name jerked me out of my stupor. The banging was growing louder and more pronounced.

"Rose!" I looked at him. "Rose. Listen to me; my weapons are on the table in the kitchen. If it's them then go into the basement. I have a reinforced glass room. _Stay in there." _

"But…"

"No 'buts'. Don't worry about me. Just go! _I'll _check," he added when I made to go to the front door.

"You're not wearing anything."

"I'll get dressed. Now just _go!" _Robert made to get up but collapsed, roaring in pain and frustration. In all the fuss we had forgotten his leg.

"Robert, your leg! You're not fit to go anywhere. Just stay in here. I'll check. If it was them then they would have penetrated upstairs' window. I forgot to close the metal shutters."

"WHAT?"

"Nevermind," I said, my mind screaming at me as to why I was still in the bathroom having a "civil" conversation when who-knows-what was banging on the front door. I went out and shut the bathroom door behind me. Making a short stop to the kitchen I grabbed my new rifle and proceeded to the door.

"Who's there?" I yelled, not really expecting an answer.

"Just open up! Please!"

Surprised, I dropped my rifle and rushed to the door. Sweat broke out on my forehead as I slid back the bolt and opened the door.

A man that looked around in his thirties was holding a boy who was bleeding from an arm. Both faces were sickly white but from different reasons.

The man stumbled over the doorstep, still holding his son, mumbling incoherent words under his breath.

I showed him to the living room after locking up the door and the man laid his son on the couch which so recently Robert had vacated.

I grabbed the Aid Kit and dabbed around the place which the blood was darkest. Two puncture marks were visible now and a feeling of dread had settled in my stomach.

"He's bit," I said to no one in particular. The father heard it but didn't look surprised—only more stricken.

The boy was still breathing, his face serene and calm but few lines had already appeared in his young face.

"Is he immune?" I asked.

"Only to the airborne virus. He can be Infected through bites."

"Impossible."

"No, it isn't." The man shook his head miserably. "I don't know why and how."

I nodded, feeling extremely helpless. Then I said, "There is a lab in the basement where we could restrain him and possibly cure him." The man's eyes lit up but his hope was fleeting.

"Help me," I said, lifting the boy's head from the pillow. Clumps of wavy brown hair lay on his pillow. My eyebrows drew together and my mind vaguely registered that we didn't have much time. I grabbed him around the arm pits and pulled. The man, seeing what I was doing, hurried to help. Together we managed to get the boy off the couch and into the hallway. My limbs felt like as if it was going to be pulled out of their sockets at any moment. My back ached terribly. I felt wetness on my forehead. I was starting to sweat. Then all of a sudden my legs gave out and I fell on the floor with the basement door just inches away.

The man looked concerned and haggard as he ran toward me. I heard growling from behind him. My breath caught in my throat and for a moment I was unable to speak due to the fact that my mouth has gone dry. Then I licked my chapped lips and spoke hoarsely, "No, I'm fine," and got shakily to my feet. Then using my remaining strength I stood up.

The man turned around and stopped dead, his eyes wide. His son was slowly rising to his feet, now completely bald. Loud threatening noises were emanating from it. It turned and stared at me with completely pitch black eyes. It had no pupils. Baring its teeth, it gave a loud roar that shook dust from the ceiling.

I was paralyzed with fear. My brain seemed to have stopped functioning. Even my heart skipped several beats.

The man beside me fell to the floor and began whispering, "No…no…it can't be…"

His words seemed to have jolted me back to action. The creature had not yet jumped at us. It seemed to be reveling in our fear. No—_glorying _in our fear. I used the few seconds to look around the hallway, looking for things that might help us in our situation. A cup, mat, table and a china ornament. All useless. I was just about to give up hope when I saw my rifle, still lying on the floor.

I glanced nervously at the creature that was now advancing on us, licking its greedy lips. Then I darted for my rifle. Surprised, the creature was taken aback and I grabbed my rifle and slid on the floor, shooting bullet after bullet into the creature's brain.

"NO!" The man launched himself at me, trying to pry the gun out of my hands. I was caught off-guard as the man wrenched the gun from me, taking my only defense weapon. "No!" He repeated. "You will not shoot my so-" But the rest of his words were cut off as the wounded creature, angry from being shot at, launched itself at him—its teeth sinking into his neck…

I scrambled away from the seen and lay against the wall, watching the horrible events that were unfolding right in front of me. I choked back a sob and watched as creature tore a great chunk out of the man's chest and slashed at his face, hungry for human flesh. I turned my head and vomited. Then shakily wiping my mouth I got to my feet. The man was screaming, the sound drowning out my sobs. Then he stopped and I knew he was, at last, dead.

The creature had no use for a corpse and it got up off it, turning its head to look at me. I was paralyzed under his stare but after a moment someone yelled, "Rose!" and I began to run toward the sound.

"Robert! Robert!" I cried while I ran, hearing the pounding footsteps that meant that the creature was following me. I tried to speed up but my tired legs screamed in protest but I couldn't rest, I couldn't stop—

Then I was embraced in the most wonderful pair of warm, familiar arms. They wrapped around me protectively and I buried my tear streaked face into the owner of the arms' chest.

I heard a click and several bangs then a thud. "Is it dead?" I whispered, shaking. "Is it gone?"

There was a moment then Robert said, "Yes, Rose. You can look now."

I slowly raised my head and turned around to look at what could have eaten me alive. Its head had been blown off entirely and a streak of blood led toward the bald head. The body had collapsed into a pool of blood.

Then fatigue and exhaustion took its toll on me and I leaned into Robert's warm embrace, letting sleep take over me and the last thing I head before I drifted off into unconsciousness was the whisper of "It's okay, Rose…Everything's going to be okay."


	7. The Dream

The next few days I went about my usual routine with only one tiny difference

Darkness. Something wet. What was it? I opened my eyes slowly. Slowly because I had to adjust to the sun light that was pouring in from the window. Someone had drawn the curtains and now that someone was sponging my forehead.

"You're awake," said a deep, familiar voice.

"Robert…" I was about to sit up when the night's events rolled over me. I closed my eyes again, willing myself to block out that memory but no success. My forehead started to pound.

"I was so stupid," I moaned.

"Shh," Robert said, applying the cooler side of the sponge to my temple. "Your headache is just going to get worse." I could sense the worry and tension in his voice. I was ashamed…and guilty. If only I hadn't dawdled so much then maybe the man and his boy (I couldn't remember their names) would be here. Alive and well. Maybe not so much for the boy but at least _alive. _

"It's not your fault," said Robert suddenly, his deep brown eyes boring into mine. "It's mine. I should've been faster."

"How do you know it's not my fault?" I licked my lips, feeling the dryness. You weren't there."

"Because I just know," said Robert. "I don't know _how _I know but…it's a gut's feeling I guess."

I turned away. "Where are they?" I closed my eyes, faint screaming still echoing in my ears.

"Where is what?"

"The bodies." I looked straight back in his eyes. "I need to know where the bodies are."

"They're in the lab," Robert replied. His voice sounded strange and I knew that he was carefully phrasing his sentences.

We were silent. Just when the tension was about to get unbearable Robert stood up, taking the bucket of water and the sponge.

"You stay right in bed and don't move," said Robert sternly. I felt resentful but I obeyed and after a full minute he left. I sighed then I turned over. The twittering of birds and the humming of the fan relaxed my muscles. I closed my eyes.

_It was Christmas. Lights twinkled and flashed from store windows and merry shoppers were hurrying from store to store, laughing with family members or friends. A particular family of four were lazily checking out the displays behind shop windows, gripping a hot cup of cocoa and occasionally taking a sip. _

"_Isn't it nice, Harold?" the older looking woman said, slinging an arm around his shoulders. _

"_Mmmm…" The man drew a long sip from his cup and wrapped an arm around his wife's middle. "It is very nice."_

_The two children watched their parents with amused eyes then ran ahead, laughing and shrieking like a pair of wildcats. Passer-bys stopped and watched the children's antics then went on, their smiles broader._

"_Mommy! Mommy! Lyla threw snow at me!" The younger child ran up to her parents, face rosy with cold._

"_Did not!" yelled Lyla indignantly. She suddenly appeared next to her sister, having ran very fast to defend herself. She pointed an accusing finger at the younger girl. "She started it!"_

"_Did not!"_

"_Did too!"_

"_Did not!"_

"_Did too!"_

_Did NOT!"_

"_DID TOO!"_

"_SHUT UP!" yelled their mother finally. Her brown eyes flashed as the two disgruntled children turned towards her. I don't care who did it," their mother continued. "But does Santa give toys to fighting children?"_

"_No," said two voices in unison._

"_Then be quiet." Then she smiled. "Now go along and play. But no throwing snow, okay?"_

_Two heads nodded then streaked off. _

"_Holly, we have to go home," said Harold suddenly, looking at his watch. He nodded to the children then to her and stared at his watch. _

_Holly nodded then called urgently to the children. She gave a short explanation to the rather disappointed children then hurried after her husband with her children behind her._

"_Lyla?" whispered the young child._

"_Yeah?"_

"_When would Mom and Dad ever have time with us instead of the lab?"_

"_I don't know, Kathy, I don't know."_


	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I'm extremely sorry but due to a humongous writing block I'm afraid I can't continue. I know most of you adore Rose Kitabell but I feel that this story isn't going anywhere. I've hit a dead end and now this story has come to a premature end. But do not get your hopes totally down. I will be posting other stories that you might like (if you have ever read Harry Potter) and I might be continuing this. MIGHT.

Your author,

Neypuslover

P.S.

I thank you for your encouragement (and reviews) and I hope you will continue reviewing. Thank you all.


	9. Gone

It was now a few days after the accident. I stayed in bed all day (mainly because of Robert's insistence). Robert brought my meals in the morning, noon and night. I was becoming used to the routine but at times I just felt like killing myself out of pure boredom. I know, I may sound like I was all comedy like (you know, happy and funny) but at night, when everything was quiet and the only thing I could hear was Robert snoring in the next bedroom, I would go over the accident, asking questions like 'Why was I so stupid?' and 'Why didn't I do this or that?' Then I couldn't get to sleep.

And about that I could only say four words. It. Is. Killing. Me.

Of course Robert knew somehow that I wasn't getting much sleep since sometimes he would wake up (sometimes and then I wouldn't hear his snoring) and hear me tossing and turning (I couldn't help it, I tossed and turned a lot) But he would leave me alone which was very surprising.

The days crawled slowly past. I stared out the window (in the daytime) and stayed awake at night. It was becoming unbearable boring. Then one day Robert went out to collect more food, taking Sam, and I was left alone in the house.

I turned right, I turned left, picked at my nails, sighed, mulled over the accident, added more questions to my list, sighed again, held up a book, put it back down, picked at my nails again then I did something that I wasn't supposed to do (according to Robert's rules), I got out of bed. I stumbled a bit but regained my footing.

I slowly walked over to the bureau and leaned against it, the lack of exercise had made my muscles surprisingly weak. I spluttered a bit for breath then walked back over to the bed and laid back down on it. I could try again later when I had another opportunity. But right now I needed to rest. I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes.

"Only for a little while," I whispered. The bed was surprisingly warm. I sank into darkness.

A door slammed. I jerked awake. I was sweating like crazy, having waked up from another one of my nightmares. It was dark. I couldn't see a thing.

"Robert?" I called, sitting up a little. "Robert, are you there?" No answer. I shivered. The darkness was creepy.

I waited for a moment then swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Barefoot, I walked over to the window and peeked out. I realized two things. 1, it was night time and 2, the metal shutters wasn't closed. My eyes widened as I backed away from the window. I bumped into the bed and collapsed on it, my breath coming out ragged and uneven.

"Robert," I whispered. "Robert." Something creaked behind me. My brain froze. I sat there paralyzed in fright, unable to move. It creaked again. Sweat poured down my forehead. _No use not knowing, _I thought.

I turned slowly. I never heard my scream. All I felt was a blinding flash of pain then darkness.


	10. Back Home

When I opened my eyes a piercing ray of light almost forced them back close but I quickly sat up. A throbbing pain in my head greeted me and I groaned. My eyes closed. _Robert. _My eyes snapped open and I felt my pulse accelerate. Oh my God. What happened to Robert? Where was he? Was he hurt?

My breath coming out in uneven, ragged gasps, I stood and made my way to the door. My hand paused halfway to the doorknob. The _wooden _doorknob. My breath hitched and I gasped in horror. Turning quickly, I took a complete survey of the room I was locked in.

"No," I whispered. "No, this can not be happening."

My house. I was locked in my old house.

"No," I moaned. A memory flashed in my mind, sharp and clear. Me and my family, smiling for the camera, posed in front of our house. Smiling. Happy. Unaware of the impending doom that would tear us all apart, rob me of pleasant memories with them, leave me homeless.

Tears came to my eyes.


	11. Truths

A full ten minutes passed before I realized I was in danger of hyperventilating. I blinked away the tears and concentrated on slowing my breathing. I counted to ten in my head before I felt my heart rate slow and my breathing return to normal. Standing up, I walked over to the window. I peered through the glass.

A beautiful green lawn, complete with a running fountain and shining statues, was identical to my memory of it. But the last time I'd seen it was when the grass was soaked in blood and the fountain was red with it. Here, now, the lawn was perfect. Not a single thing out of order.

I closed my eyes and pressed my palms against my forehead. What was going on? Nothing made sense. I was stuck in my old home with a throbbing headache and no idea of how I got there. Unless…

My eyes fluttered open. The realization of what had happened hit me with a force of a ton of bricks.

"No…" I moaned. "Impossible…"

"What's impossible?" a voice said behind me. I gasped in horror. Too trapped in the horrible truth, I had failed to hear the door open. But I didn't turn. I didn't want to turn.

"Hello, Lila." A hand brushed my shoulder. "Why don't you turn around to greet me face-to-face?"

My hands are clenched in front of me on the table. My head is bent to keep me from seeing the most feared man of my life. He is sitting across from me.

"How've you been, Lila?" His tone is polite, formal even.

I don't speak. Fear glues my teeth together.

His chair squeaks as he stands up and makes his way over to me. He puts his hand underneath my chin and forces my face up to meet his. His cool gray eyes are just as I remember it.

"Talk to me," he whispers softly. I shiver, hearing the familiar note of danger in his voice. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. His gray eyes tighten and seem to turn into ice.

"Did you hear what I just said?" he asks me, hissing slightly. "Don't you remember who I am and what I'm capable of?" His right hand grips my wrist tightly. The left entangles itself in my hair. I'm shaking now, fear welling inside of me.

"Please…" The hoarse whisper that comes out of my mouth surprises me. "Please…" Tears well up in my eyes.

His hand tightens around my wrist. Then suddenly he let go. Seeming please by my reaction, he walks back to his chair and sits down. He strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"You're frightened." It's just a statement. But it's enough to fill me up with shame.

"I'm not," I said.

He surveys me with those piercing gray eyes of his. "You are and you know it," he says back. "Now, don't you want to know how you came here? And…" He chuckles softly. "And where is your little friend?"

_Robert. _The name echoes in my head. My eyes widened. I'd forgotten about Robert. "Where is he?" I ask. My voice is shaky.

His smile only widens.

"What did you do to him?" I scream, unable to control myself. "Where is he? Why are you doing this to us? TELL ME!" I'm crying now. Fear is almost nonexistent. All I can feel is anger; anger at myself for showing weakness and frustration for not being able to do anything.

He is silent for a long time. "Don't you know? Don't you remember?" he asks me. "You _should _know everything by now. Or hasn't it become clear enough for you?"

I shake my head. I do know everything but I refuse to speak.

"I think you've forgotten who I am." His tone is full of mock sadness.

I shake my head again.

"So tell me who am I."

I swallow and stare at him straight in the eye. "You are my father," I said.

_A/N: Hahaha. Looks like Rose (oops, I mean Lila) was hiding a few things from us. I swear things are going to be a bit clearer in the next chappie (yep! I'm currently writing the next one! So keep Reading and Reviewing! :D). _

_Oh, and I'm sort of making things up as I go. So if some things don't really make sense then please tell me. Thx!_


	12. Somewhere With Insanity

Its a few hours later and I'm alone in my room. Now that I'm alone, I can feel the shame now. The force of it is so strong I can feel it squeezing all the air from my lungs. I start gasping and as my chest heaves, a wave of nausea almost overcomes me. I stand up and make my way to a corner. It's cold there but I curl up and huddle there with my back to the wall.

So cold…I shiver and press my face into the soft fabric of my jeans.

The shame's still there. It threatens to take over my mind, my whole being. But I won't let it. I'm fighting but I know I'm losing. Inch by inch I'm losing myself to the darkness. But I don't want to go there. I don't want to remember anything anymore. And I especially don't want to relive the memories of my past.

_Robert, _I keep telling myself, _concentrate on Robert…_But it's hard to hold on. One minute, two minutes past and I'm struggling through every second. I'm crying now. But I know that I have to let go. So I start relinquishing my hold on reality, just one finger at a time. And, just before I slip into unconsciousness, I see Robert's face in my mind. His black eyes are full of sadness.

_Hold on, _my Robert hallucination begs. _Don't let go! Stay with me, Rose._

_But I'm already gone. _The darkness overcomes me then, erasing all conscious thoughts.


	13. Night of Blood

Three years ago my family and I lived in an ordinary, medium-sized white house with pink shutters. A lawn surrounded the house and a beautiful white fountain resided in the middle of it. From the outside we looked like an ordinary family with ordinary problems. But my sister and I knew better.

My mother came from a very proud family. So when problem after problem started to creep into our lives she did her best to cover it up. Everyday she'd cover up bruises and cuts on her arms and face with long sleeved T-shirts and jeans. And, whenever any of the neighbors came by she held her head up high and made small talk about the weather.

My sister, Elaine, and I never knew what was wrong with our father. He'd come home at night in one of his drunken rages and beat my mother who never made a sound. He'd yell and scream and throw lamps and ornaments across the room. Elaine and I would cower in my beds, shivering uncontrollably. Then, a little while later, we'd hear him coming up the stairs and stumbling into his and mother's bedroom. After he fell asleep my mother would come up to check on him and then creep into our room where she slept on a blanket at the foot of my bed.

So, thanks to my father, we all lived in constant fear. Then one day Elaine went to school and never came back home. My mother didn't do anything about her disappearance. Perhaps she was relieved that my sister wouldn't have to suffer anymore. I didn't care to know; I was just relieved that Elaine had made it out.

But after Elaine's disappearance, my father seemed to become angrier. He'd beat my mother much worse than before and, despite her adamant refusal to make a sound, she couldn't help screaming and begging for mercy. But her tears couldn't soothe his rage. And nor did mine.

He beat me, too. Maybe he thought it was my fault that Elaine ran away. Or maybe he thought I knew where Elaine might be.

One day my mother couldn't take it anymore. She told me to pack up and that we were going to move to a place far away where my father couldn't hurt us anymore. But when I had finished packing and she had finished hers and everything was in the car, she told me that she was going to wait for my father to tell him she was going to leave him. When I protested, she sent me to the car.

"I'll come back to the car as soon as I can," she promised me. "Then we'll go, okay?" She had smoothed back my hair and kissed my brow. "I promise." Then she walked back to the house.

I waited, shivering with fear. Time passed so slowly that I finally fell asleep and only woke up when I heard shouting from inside the house. Immediately, my heart started jumping around inside my chest. There was a crash as something hit the living room wall and the door banged open. My mother charged out and came running towards the car.

"Open the door!" she shouted. I did as she said and she jumped in and slammed the door. Her hands were shaking so much that she couldn't jam the key inside the ignition. And that's when I saw him. My father, with blood pouring down the left side of his face, came barreling out of the doorway and coming towards us. I felt my stomach constrict as I realized that part of his face was missing.

"Mom!" I screamed. His hand punched through the glass and, oblivious to the glass shards that left red marks on his skin, closed around my mother's face and yanked-hard. I screamed again, delirious with terror, as my mother slumped in the driver's seat. Blood was everywhere. I couldn't take my eyes off the red mass that had been my mother. But my father wasn't finished with my mother yet. He reached inside and dragged my mother's body out. There was a sickening crack as he punched her skull open, mixing bone with brain, and began eating my mother's flesh with a hunger that surprised me.

I could barely breathe, covered in blood and paralyzed in shock as I was. After all, I had just witnessed my own mother get her face ripped off and her brains splattered all over the lawn. But I couldn't look away. I could only watch as my father tore open her throat and chest (spraying still more blood onto the lawn and fountain) and began tearing at her organs.

After what seemed like an eternity, my father finally turned towards me slowly. And then he stared into my eyes with a look so alien, so frightening that I opened the door and ran off along the sidewalk. I was in a panicked daze, sobbing as I ran, so I didn't feel his breath on the back of my neck until it was almost too late. I turned around, screaming, and lashed out with my foot. He stumbled and fell on me. I couldn't stand his weight so we both fell. My head hit the sidewalk and for a moment I blacked out. But then I came to and, just in time, saw my father tear a thin strip of flesh from my leg. Pain burst in the back of my head, almost blinding me. My other foot smashed into my father's face. The force of my kick wasn't enough to break my father's neck, but it was enough to momentarily daze him. I used the few seconds I had and jumped up (ignoring the pain in my leg, in my whole body even) and ran. I didn't stop running until I couldn't hear my father behind me anymore.

I sank down, crying and moaning breathlessly. I tore a thin strip of cloth from my shirt and bandaged up my leg as well as I could. Then I just sat and let the tears flow freely.

When the tears finally stopped, I got up. I had to find the police. It was time to tell them everything. Or so I thought.


End file.
